


CODA.

by lackadaisically



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28168164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lackadaisically/pseuds/lackadaisically
Summary: “Hi!” he says, and Lars stares at him for a moment until it clicks in his head.“Wait... Steven?” He can feel his nerves enter his chest. He’s not even sure if he’s got the right guy —“That’s what they call me. Lars, yeah?” Steven let out a chortle that was incredibly similar to a giggle.  Lars' head bobs in a befuddled nod. “You look even hotter in real life. Nice gauges. What size are they?”“Y-yeah. That’s me. Thanks,” he chuckles nervously, rubs at the back of his head and tilts his gaze over to the bar and it’s patrons to see if any were glancing his way, “they’re, uh… three-fourths an inch I think?” He replies after allowing his nervous gaze to turn back to the chubby guy in front of him.Steven puffed out a lilting laugh. “I’ve been thinking about getting mine done too. Just not looking forward to the uh, process.” There was even something adorable about his voice, too. Feminine, but with a masculine bass. Proudly both and neither.“It sucks.” Lars says.“So do I.” Steven’s reply was sharp and instant ninety degrees. He winks and Lars’ face flusters as quickly as Steven’s laugh fills the air.
Relationships: Lars/Steven Universe
Kudos: 20





	CODA.

_smile like you mean it._

“Hahaha, holy sh- no way!” Sadie cackled off to his left, expertly censoring herself in front of a customer. Lars canted a lackadaisical eye over to her, his left hand handing over change. Her phone was in her right hand — reading a text from someone while she clocks in. “Mr. Universe is back in Beach City?!”

“Thanks, come see us again.” He bid with his droll customer service voice before turning to rest his aloof gaze onto her and leaning his ass against the counter and asking, “Uh… who?”

“Mister Universe.” Sadie stares at him for a long, dumbfounded moment. “We went over this Lars. He’s one of the few people that’s gotten signed out of Beach City. Remember?” It wasn’t completely his fault that he didn’t know; he’d moved to Beach City way back as a Freshman. It’s been a few years. Still, as soon as Sadie said it, he remembered... There was even a Billboard on the cliff overlooking the city with his name on it. _Beach City’s Biggest Star._

“Oh yeah,” he huffs out. He totally knew that, “I just meant, what’s the big deal? Is he playing prom or something?” Lars’ joke is met with a roll of Sadie’s eyes.

“It’s a big deal because he just hired Sour Cream for a gig. So yeah, he’s playing something — sometime.” Sadie further elaborated. “It’s a big deal because rumor has it he has his eye open for new talent —”

Oh right… The band.

“ — and since Sour Cream is busy, you’re off the hook for practice this afternoon.” She worked as she spoke, getting herself clocked in and into a semi-professional shape while Lars leaned. “You **are** making the next practice, right?” She asked, or pleaded — Lars couldn’t tell. Probably the latter.

“Y-yeah, yeah.” Lars had missed way too many practices since the Cool Kids discovered Sadie’s talent and they came together to form a band. It was just them two for the longest time and since he came with Sadie as a package deal, they had to tolerate him. All he wanted nothing but to be liked by the Cool Kids, yet they still made him really fucking as anxious. “U-um,” his voice almost cracked. He was thinking too much, “I’ve been here since three, do you mind if I grab my break?”

Sadie glanced at her watch, and then around at the workstation and let out a brief sigh. “Y-yeah, sure, Lars… I’ll cover it from here. Take your fifteen.”

Lars’ phone was in his hand before he even reached the patio chair they had set up behind the Big Donut. He kicked himself back into it and opened his social media to see Mr. Universe trending in most of the local circles. A majority are similar posts tossed around by peers, a song or two by _The Man Himself_ . The only thing that caught Lars’ attention was an article by the local news that posted an article on Mister Universe. The photo they used is about sixteen years old and the beaming guy in it wasn’t too bad looking. Kind of pudgy, but Lars was also kind of into that. Not that he thought of guys _like that_ at all.

He can appreciate the appearance of another man without it being gay, right? There wasn’t anything inherently gay about it, and even if there was... everyone thinks about fucking someone of the same sex at least once, right? Curiosity, right? 

Not that Lars wanted to fuck Mr Universe. Greg, the article said. His mental gymnastics were solely a product of himself, and the strange notif going off on his phone. The ding was incredibly distinctive and it’s been a few days since he’s heard it pop. 

It was from a meetup app. Well, a hook up one. For guys… and the guy leaning.

He wasn’t even sure why he downloaded the app. That curiosity coupled with loneliness, maybe? Sadie and him have been more off-again than on since Junior year. Even if they were still best friends. He didn’t even think he was gay, really… it was just an experiment. Yeah. An experiment… to see.

_Just like jacking it to gay porn once, and you see how that turned out. It’s made it into your routine. From big beautiful women to bisexual and all the way to gay anal, it was a hell of a way to spend a box of tissues._

He had a new message from someone with a practically empty profile. Just a name, and even that was a star emoji. That didn’t surprise him, a good portion of folks hid behind an empty photo. Not that he had any room to judge, his pic was just his bare chest. He checked the message, and it read simply: 

_Hello, handsome. (:_

Lars rolled his eyes. It was probably some older dude trying to perv on him. He probably should have deleted the message and the app, but something in him just said: Fuck it. 

Lars shrugged his shoulders and for the hell of it wrote back:

_Yo._

He leaned back in the chair and watched some clouds roll past, then his phone dinged that distinctive notification, he picked up his phone and checked.

_Sorry if this is weird, but I’m new in town and you seem like you’re pretty cool! And hot too! What’s your name?_

Lars couldn’t help the color rising in his cheeks, he’s not called hot often. It’s mostly just pictures of dicks. Thumbs tapped across the screen:

_Lol, thanks. It’s Lars. What’s yours? I wish I could say the same about you, but there’s no pic._

He hadn’t meant to come across as rude, and for three or four minutes he was convinced he had, and then another notification sounded in his phone. It took a few seconds for the application to reload, but when it had he had a picture waiting on him. Blood immediately flooded his face and crotch and he felt a coil of arousal knot itself in his belly. The Star Emoji was a chubby guy. Close to Lars’ age, if not a little younger, and predominantly naked. A pink jacket covers pallid-rosy mounds of flesh while a dark colored jock does little to defend the guy’s modesty; he can certainly see the outline of a stout bulge. Umber colored hairs pepper his façade, coalescing and pooling between rosy nipped pecs that remind Lars of a small pair of breasts. There’s even a bit of a happy trail between his navel and jock. Finally, in the top left corner of the frame was a pair of lips, cocked into a stubble flanked smirk. Underneath the image was the text:

_My name is Steven. I’m kind of chubby. I hope that’s okay!_

Now all of Lars’ blood was in the same two places. He stared at the picture for a good five minutes, steeping in the view. Fuck, maybe part of him was gay. He snapped out of it when a car backfired down the road, and quickly replied.

_Oh, god. That’s more than okay. You’re really fucking cute._

He regretted sending it immediately. He was acknowledging it. A few seconds later he got the response of a smiley face and a heart. A moment more, he was sent another message.

_So… what’s there to do for fun around here?_

From there it settled into casual chatting. Lars ended his break with a half-chub and a pink face. He focused on work about as much as usual, which is to mean he laconically breezed through it until his shift ended. Sadie didn’t yell at him for being on the phone, though. He muted his volume and set it in his back pocket. Lars learned he and Steven had a few things in common. They both had a shared love of music. Indie, in particular. He learned that Steven had been on the road for a while, and having moved a few too many times in his life, Lars shared his sympathy. He also learned that Steven had quite the sense of timing, because as he was wrapping up his shift his phone buzzed in his pocket.

_(: That’s really cool, and uh- I’m just wondering. Would you maybe want to meet up sometime?_

_Meet up._ Lars froze in step and stared at the message. He knew what that meant. Steven was asking if he wanted to hook up. Lars swallowed hard in his throat. He wasn’t the creepy older dude who Lars had initially expected him to be, plus the picture Steven sent him earlier was still fresh in his mind and in his veins. He wasn’t sure if he liked what that implied, but teenage hormones win every time. Don’t they?

_Sure. When?_

Lars asked.

_Tonight, maybe? I’ve got a thing tomorrow night. If not, that’s cool. We can always do it some other time!_

Lars inhaled sharply and nearly stepped off the sidewalk and into the road. He caught himself and paused in his path. Tonight? His cock made it’s half-aroused state known with a throb. It had been too long since him and Sadie did anything, and as much as he missed the heat of another person he’s never been with another dude… Fuck it.

_Where?_

It only takes a second for the response to come through. Lars knows the place. He’s scored weed there a few times in the past year — on the cliff side of the boardwalk. It wasn’t the best part of the city. It mostly housed bars and adult stores. It’ll take him a bit to reach, but he’s beyond horny and he doesn’t care. Lars doesn’t even take a shower, not that he thought about it before. Between walking and almost missing a bus, it’s dark by the time he reaches the wharf.

Steven and he exchange a few more messages before he gets there. _How will I know it’s you? You’ll know. (;_ Lars sends a picture of his face just to be safe… but he doesn’t get one in return.

Lars looks about the area and pops his hood over his head. It smells like rotting fish and salt, and there doesn’t seem to be a ton of people around sans a handful of bars and stores that are still open. Lars lets his feet carry him. He dodges a guy trying to sell him coke, and veers towards a bar. Stopping under the corner spotlight, he pulls out his phone to check for messages. Nothing.

A sweet voice next to him causes him to jerk in surprise. “Yo.” it says coyly.

Lars turns an annoyed glance to a guy a year or two his junior. He’s a chubby guy wearing a pink varsity jacket. A puff of curly umber sets atop a pair of mischievously glinted eyes, and a familiar smirk flanked by blotchy stubble. “Uh… Hi?” Lars responds.

“Hi!” he says, and Lars stares at him for a moment until it clicks in his head. 

“Wait... Steven?” He can feel his nerves enter his chest. He’s not even sure if he’s got the right guy —

“That’s what they call me. Lars, yeah?” Steven let out a chortle that was incredibly similar to a giggle. Lars’ head bobs in a befuddled nod. “You look even hotter in real life. Nice gauges. What size are they?” _Fuck, he’s really cute._

Lars can feel heat rising in his cheeks already. The picture flashed in his mind and it carried a surge of arousal in his gut. “Y-yeah. That’s me. Thanks,” he chuckles nervously, and rubs at the back of his head while he tilts his gaze over to the bar and it’s patrons to see if any were glancing his way, “they’re, uh… three-fourths an inch I think?” He replies after allowing his nervous gaze to turn back to the chubby guy in front of him. It cantered from his tip to toe. He was much cuter in real life, but that was probably because of his eyes. Deep brown pools of warmth that seemed to mirror the smile on his lips. Lars even feels one tugging at the corner of his lips.

Steven puffed out a lilting laugh. “I’ve been thinking about getting mine done too. Just not looking forward to the uh, process.” There was even something adorable about his voice, too. Feminine, but with a masculine bass. Proudly both and neither.

“It sucks.” Lars says.

“So do I.” Steven’s reply was sharp and instant ninety degrees. He winks and Lars’ face flusters as quickly as Steven’s laugh fills the air. Lars doubts Steven is joking by the coy look in his eye. Nervous chuckles follow amused ones as Lars shifts on his soles. “Sorry… uh, I couldn’t help myself. Do you wanna… find someplace quiet first? Maybe?”

Lars’ heart was hammering in his chest with a mixture of anxiety and a strange sense of exhilaration that filled the air with Steven’s question. “Uh, I’ve never… really done this thing before.” He confesses quietly.

“Neither have I. Not really, but…” a warm hand reaches out and touches his forearm and Lars pulls his gaze back up to face the other. “... you won’t regret it.” Steven smiles and squeezes at his forearm, and tugs him along. “Yeah?” Steven asked, pleaded. His lips turned into a soft glower, nearly a pout. 

Lars finds himself moving with no resistance. Steven drags him deeper towards what Lars feels like is the sea, and for a moment Lars is concerned Steven’s plan is to drag him to the depths, but then he starts recognizing the area. There’s a community center close by, mostly frequented by the elderly or eccentric adults that didn’t want to deal with the rabble at more popular locations. A block farther and Lars is sure that’s their destination.

Steven’s as pink in the face as his letterman’s jacket when he pushes open the door to the bathroom, and Lars isn’t sure if the twisting knot in his stomach is arousal or dread.

At least the place isn’t gross. It’s not pristine, but it’s not disgusting. It smells like fake lemons and ammonia and faintly of bleach. “Okay, so…” Steven starts, turning around in the center of the bathroom marvelously on his heels.. Lars can see him more clearly under the incandescent lighting, “There’s… a stall… down there that has a hole in it…” 

Oh. OH! Oh?

“You want to use it?” Lars questioned. Really? A gloryhole? Why?

He didn’t ask. Curly umber hair bobbed with an emphatic nod. Lars’ only second thoughts up to this moment had been because Steven was a dude. The wall between them in case he wasn’t into it is what sold it. “Alright, sure.” He said, feet leading him the way the moment he spoke.

Steven showed him to the stall in question, and slipped into the other side and shut the door behind him.. Lars took a deep breath and steeled himself and stepped inside. Graffiti littered the walls, and to his left (in the same direction as the stall Steven entered) there was a hole, maybe two and a half to three inches in diameter cut into the wall. Through it he saw Steven. “Let’s see it!” Steven’s voice called impatiently from the stall beside him.

“Shh!” Lars chastises. “Dude, what if somebody comes by?!”

Half a meaty hand peers through the hole, wiggling come hither to him. “Well, there’s an easy way you can shut me up.” Steven counters, and the very nerve of his words has Lars scoffing and tugging his pants and underwear down to his thighs. He was already half-hard already. Something about this entire thing made his blood boil with excitement.

Steven’s hand retreated back into the hole once he heard the zipper come down. Lars didn’t waste any time in aligning his hips and seeing his length through the breach. It was met with a gasp and snerk. In no time there’s a warm grip wrap around the root and warm breath and lips pursing at the covered tip. “Nice cock, dude.” Steven’s coyness leaks into his voice.

He bit back a groan as blood proceeded to flood his length, rising it to full erection with no effort. Lars wasn’t sure why this was so hot, and at the moment he didn’t care. He can’t stop the moan that passes from his throat when Steven takes him into his mouth, both needy and thankful. He hears - no, feels Steven around his cock. Pushing the skin down, his tongue eagerly sweeping against the sensitive glands in his mouth. 

Lars head rolls back as Steven works on the other side of the wall. Steven is sloppy but eager. There’s no suction and Lars can feel the scrape of ivory across rigid flesh at times. Steven even bounces his forehead off the wall between them in an eager bid to take his length to the root. The sound alone is enough to make Lars cringe the moment before the slick heat pulled away from his cock.

“Fuck.” Steven curses in the stall beside him, breathing deep. “S-sorry. I-it’s been awhile since I’ve done this.” It sounds like a lie coming from him, and Lars wonders if he’s ever done this before today. Somehow that makes it hotter to him. “Can I come over there? I don’t wanna bang my head again and… I want to… not stop.” Steven’s voice sounds as desperate as Lars feels.

There’s no hesitation in Lars’ approval, and Steven’s filling his stall after a moment. It makes the temperature around him rise by a few degrees, but Steven’s on his knees and has Lars back in his mouth the second the door is shut. 

“W-whoa,” he says. As hot as it is to watch Steven just go for it, his hands come down to draw him back, “try not to get ahead of yourself, dude. G-go slow. Your mouth feels great.” Lars instructs, finding the direction to be oddly erotic, “just watch your teeth.”

Steven’s face is a brilliant scarlet at this point, a perfect contrast to Lars’ tawny length as it laid across his nose. He could feel a deep huff of air as Steven filled his lungs with oxygen before pulling his head back and taking the length back into his mouth. Steven managed to bring a moan out of Lars with the added direction, “Focus on the tip.” His tongue swirled and Steven sucked him down until Lars touched the back of his throat before he pulled his mouth away.

It was both an astonishing and erotic sight to behold. One of Lars’ hands grasped his shirt he held up to his diaphragm as he watched his cock disappear and reappear into Steven’s mouth. Steven glancing up at him occasionally to gauge his performance. Lars’ expression was needy despite Steven’s inexperience; his enthusiasm far made up for it. When Steven wasn’t trying to swallow his rigid length, slick pink lips pressed against the rigid shaft sweetly. 

After another kiss to the crown of his cock, the chubby guy rose to his feet and started working at his pants. “I, uhm - have a condom - it’s probably your size. And some lube. If you want to…I prepared myself a bit before too, so...” he says, wiggling his jeans down past his hips. He produces a couple plastic packets and hands them to Lars. A condom and a little plastic tube of lube. 

Arousal coiled tightly in his gut. This was happening, wasn’t it? Steven turned around to face the door, and Lars glanced down. He was wearing the jockstrap from the picture. Taunt mounds of his ass seemed to be framed perfectly with the black elastic. “Fuck.” Lars says aloud, cock visibly twitching his excitement. “You sure?”

“Yes, please?” Steven replies, apprehensive and coy.

Lars’ teeth make quick work of the condom foil and he rolls it over his painfully hard length while Steven bends forward, bracing his weight on the door with his forearms. Lars shifts closer behind him, moving on instinct and hundreds of hours of pornography. His hands drift down to part those cheeks, and eyes are met with the sight of an eager, quivering pink hole, slightly glistening from Steven’s pre-preparation and certainly begging for his attention.

A pass of a lube slicked finger made Steven whimper and wiggle. Warmth spreads across the tip of the digit as Steven presses himself back against it. Muscles clinch with the invasion and Steven groans out his pleasure. Lars' fingers slide into him easily from there, spreading lube and pressing deep. He was preparing himself as much as he was Steven, getting himself used to the idea. Steven’s reactions were a boon — his whimpers and wiggles of pleasure turned Lars on far more than anything before. He presses a second digit in with the first and the moan Steven replies makes Lars’ cock throb.

He keeps this up until a frustrated grunt from Steven calls his attention. “Enough with the fingers, just… put it in. Please.” Steven pleaded again, and it was enough to send Lars over the edge. 

Lars was going to fuck him. He needed to.

Lars aligned himself with his needy hole and even through the condom the heat of Steven’s body was almost too much. He pressed forward and slid across his hole, earning him another whimper. “Relax.” Lars says, rubbing at Steven’s hip while aligning himself again. “Breathe.”

Steven breathes, and Lars presses forward. Lars pops past his quivering ring of muscle, and he’s feeding Steven a quarter of his dick before he realizes it. Steven puffs out a pained grunt and the clinching ring is enough to give him pause.

Lars can barely tell himself apart from the tight heat his cock is painfully wrapped in or a moment. “You good?” He dares to ask.

“Yeah,” came Steven’s reply. Lars felt him relax and tighten around him, “just… give me a second.” Steven does it again, but this time presses himself back. Lars notices and he presses forward, burying himself fully within the shorter boy within a second.

Steven lets out a pained moan underneath him and Lars freezes for another moment just feeling Steven’s sphincter tighten and loosen and adjust to his size. The moment passes after Steven presses back against him, and peers over his shoulder. Lars only catches the corner of his expression, but hears him clearly. “F-fuck me, Lars.” Tumbles from his sweet lips in a whimper, and Lars loses all willpower he has left.

He pulls his hips back until half remains and slams back in. The slap of skin on skin is almost as cathartic as the moan that tumbles from Steven’s throat. Lars pulls back and thrusts again and sets the pace. He doesn’t start at the best angle, but after the fourth press of his hips they find it.

Steven gasps and squeezes around him when Lars bottoms out in him and offers sweet friction when he draws out. This was probably the hottest thing Lars had ever done in his life. His gaze glances down to watch his cock disappear between a chubby pair of cheeks and he can feel himself coming undone.

Steven’s voice doesn’t help. Lewd praise pours from his lips when they’re not distracted digging his teeth into his forearm (the other hand keeping him aloft had fallen prior). How Steven gasps his name when Lars thrusts against him in a particular way. Lars tries repeating the thrust just to get him to do it again.

It doesn’t last long. Lars thrusts harder, slamming hips into the crescendo of a lewd skin-on-skin opera. Arousal unspools itself from his gut and unleashes itself against the thin latex barrier between his seed and the velvety walls that surrounded him. It’s one of the most intense orgasms of his life and he’s fairly certain the noises tumbling from his throat aren’t the manliest.

Neither are Steven’s. His moans echo in Lars’ ears while he clenches around him and spills his seed against the stall door while Lars remains firmly pressed against his prostate. Lars pulls himself free from Steven a moment after. “Fuck.” They share the same breathless word. The stall smells like cum, even before he peels the condom off and disposes of it in the toilet. Steven cleans himself up, and they both flush the evidence of their deed down the drain. 

Pants are hiked up and buttoned, and Lars assumes it’s gonna be awkward from there, but when his gaze sets upon the shorter teens pair he has to fight the urge to smile, and loses. “That was fun!” Steven said, still slightly winded, sweat beading along his forehead causing curly strands to stick. Lars nodded, “I’d like to do it again sometime, maybe? If you want. Maybe the night after next? I think I may be leaving after that, BUT it’s cool if not. I still have a great memory, anyway.” Steven shrugged, hands casually finding the pockets of his jacket after opening the stall.

Lars’ gaze finds him again, and he rolls his shoulders in a shrug. “Maybe? I, uh, thought it was fun too.” It was more than fun. It was the hardest he’d cum in his life and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Steven turned a glance towards Lars and shrugged again. “Works for me. It’s not a no. Take care of yourself, Lars.~” And he was gone, leaving Lars in the bathroom with the echo of his singsong voice.

It takes him an extra hour to get home. His parents were _thrilled_ he made it well past midnight, and he was extremely lucky he was off tomorrow, from both work and school. After apologizing profusely and promising it wouldn’t happen again, Lars found himself in the shower and soon after, bed.

He sleeps hard. In his dreams, he’s fully realized: self-assured, confident even. Comfortable. He knows what he wants and he feels warmth in his chest. Elation. He found happiness in himself and wrapped around full lips that pressed into his. Lips flanked by stubble that tickled his skin, and made his lungs seize with a snicker. Sweetness reaches his ears, and tumbles from his own lips, much to his surprise. Lips lock again, and he loses himself into warmth and tingle and taste and tongue. He’s too caught up in the kiss to hear the door, or the gasp of surprise that materializes his greatest fear. He separates quickly from the source of elation that fades into the inky blackness of his subconscious. Suddenly, his peers surrounded him, mocking, pulling everything about him apart, and calling him a —

Lars wakes with startled intake of air, his phone chime jingling on his bedside table. He felt disgustingly wet, coated with a thin layer of sweat that his bedsheets absorbed from his naked frame. His phone annoyingly chimes again, and he groans. His dream fades, leaving an anxious coil in his chest in its wake. He sits up and reaches for his phone to check what the hell was going on. Bleary eyes focused on the time first, forty-eight after twelve. And he had three missed calls from Sadie. Fuck.

Apparently, their band group chat had exploded into a text wall of excitement. Lars couldn’t tell what the hell they were talking about — so he scrolled up for context. Sour Cream had started the fire, with a simple message. _So… met Mr. Universe and his Son. Cool peeps. Said I had a band and they invited everybody out to the show tonight. Oh yeah, the show’s tonight._ Jenny and Buck couldn’t believe it, and Sadie had sent him a message asking if he was awake. He kept reading, people asking questions about Mr Universe and his Son. Lars skimmed but didn’t see anything he cared about. He tabbed over to reply to Sadie as he crawled out of bed and pulled on a pair of boxers.

He sent: _I am now. What’s up?_ But her response isn’t immediate. His phone doesn’t chime a reply until he’s blearily shoveling food into his mouth. _Hey! Sorry, I have a lot going on at the house right now. You saw the chat right? You coming?_ Lars blinks a few times and leaves the spoon full of cereal in his mouth while he replies: _Yeah, I did. And sure? What else is there to do?_ He kinda wanted to see how Sour Cream was going to perform anyway. Sadie replied with a smiley face and a time and place to meet, and Lars had several hours to kill. But what to do?

Firstly, he finished his late breakfast and then clambered back towards his bedroom. A padded drum kit sat in the corner, mostly forgotten for the better part of a week. He really needed to practice, but also really wanted to finish learning guitar. Even the cheap acoustic he’d bought off Buck sat near it, looking sad and unplayed. He puffs out a defeated sigh and pulls on some fresh clothes, and picks up around his room. Eventually, gangly fingers find the guitar and he tries.

Goddamnit does he try, but the frets don’t fit in his hand right and his fingers keep slipping off the chords and it frustrates him. It’s a hell of a way to kill time, though. Before he knows it, Sadie’s pulling up in her Mom’s Minivan with Buck and Jenny in the back seat. Anxiety crawled into his chest, but with Sadie’s pleading look he managed to steal his nerves and climb in.

“Sup.”

“He~ey.”

“Hi, Lars.” The three greeted him, Sadie with a bit of a solemn look on her face.

“Hey guys.” Lars replies with feigned nonchalance, yet his heart was pounding with his nerves. Something had to have been off with the way he said it, because he got a curious head tick from Buck.

“There’s something different about you, Lars.” Buck says from the back seat, making Lars turn his head and look at him with a cocked brow.

“What?” Lars replied.

“Oh yeah, I’m seeing it too.” Jenny says, pursing her lips and inspecting him. “You’re not giving off your usual vibe today.” She elaborates, Buck nodded a confirmation at her side.

“You finally get some?” Buck asks, and it’s not the bluntness that takes him off guard. How the fuck could he tell? Heat takes to his face and colors it immediately.

“What the fuck? No!” Lars scoffed, turning forward in his chair.

Quietly, Sadie snickered beside him as she turned over the van. “Come on, guys. Don’t tease him too much.” She says. “We’re gonna grab some food before going to see the show, and you’re the deciding vote. Pizza or Seafood, Lars?”

“Uh,” Lars’ voice extends while Jenny’s protest of eating pizza easily sways his opinion. “The Crab Shack sounds pretty good right now?”

Jenny whooped, and Buck nodded his approval. Sadie chuckled, asked Buck to let Sour Cream know and kicked the minivan into gear. Lars’ anxiety slowly melted as the road passed underneath them. Mundane conversation fills the journey, but Lars isn’t paying attention. It feels good to be here, just in their company. His anxiety fades into a dull annoyance, but it doesn’t perturb him as usual.

They arrive and meet Sour Cream before entering the building.

“Hey guys!” Sour Cream says, his nasally tone full of nerves. They all greet him, and crowd into the restaurant. They order and continue their conversations that Lars doesn’t pay much attention to until something catches his ear.

“Uh-yup. Really chill guys. Mister Universe lets me call him Greg, and Steven’s a riot.”

The name caught his ear, bringing back images of the chubby boy in the pink jacket he’d met last night.

“Wait, who?” Lars asked.

“Steven Universe? Mister Universe’s Son? He’s who’s playing the concert tonight, dude.” Sour Cream replies. “You good, Lars? You seem kinda out of it, man.”

He feels his blood run cold, but his reply is sharp and heated: “Yeah. I’m fine. I just didn't hear you is all.” He didn’t hear anything after that either. Steven Universe? The guy from last night had said his name was Steven. Could it be? Nah he doubted it was the same person — how popular a name was Steven anyway? Sixth most popular? There was no way it was the same Steven.

The next hour passed in relative ease. Sour Cream leaves first, but not before handing out a couple VIP slips to his group. “Smell ya later guys, and don’t be late. I’m super nervous, so I need you guys there for me.” The rest of their group finishes their dinner pretty swiftly after that, and load up into the van one more time.

They arrive at the venue: the bluff overlooking the town. The air is cold and filled with the smells of the sea. Music fills the background under the chattering around him. The stage that was set up against the cliff years ago was decorated with streamers and balloons and it felt very _homecoming_ to Lars. _Welcome Home, Mister Universe._ Hell, the entire beach is filled with a similar vibe. He looks around, and swears that half the town is here.

A pair of dome lights cut on, and a portly balding man that Lars recognizes as Mister Universe is on the stage, grasping the microphone from it’s stand, and when he speaks his voice sends shivers down Lars’ spine. Why does he sound familiar?

“Good afternoon, Beach City!” He greets, “Some of you guys know me, but for those that don’t. I’m Gregory DeMayo, but most folks know me by my stage name, Mister Universe. I was born here and raised here. I was discovered here. It’s been sixteen years since then, and I think that’s been too long to be gone.” The vibe made sense, now. Greg sighed, his voice taking on a solemn tone as he gazed about the crowd. “But tonight’s not about me. Tonight, I’d like to introduce you guys to a very special talent that I discovered a handful of years ago. My Son!

Please welcome, Steven Universe!”

Music started playing as the lighting flicked into effect, bathing a lone figure behind a sound station. Sour Cream stood behind it, embroiled in his work, a pair of headphones on his head and his fingers tickling the keys of a synth. Plucking of guitar chords accompany the synth as the song builds. Another figure waltzes from off stage, short and as rotund as his father, a guitar strapped around his front.

The amount of people there had made it easy for Lars and the band to make it to the front row. Black and Pink are the first things Lars’ notices, making his heart hammer hard in his chest. Next the face — the subtle cut of a chubby stubble jawline. Full lips he can still see a coy smirk on, and when he opened those lips the same sweet tone filled with tenor.

_“♫ Save some face / you know you only got one / change your ways / while you’re young! ♫”_

No fucking way. It was the same Steven. Fear and anxiety built in his chest while his eyes widened in disbelief.

No way he had fucked Steven Universe.

**Fuck.**


End file.
